


'Cause you gave me peace

by youreallsofuckingrude



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Captivity, Drabble, Established Relationship, Hallucinations, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreallsofuckingrude/pseuds/youreallsofuckingrude
Summary: “Hector, my Hector,” Isaac’s voice taunts. “Always so keen to throw yourself from the bridge.”Hector stops breathing, the pain tearing fresh and hard across his ribs. “’m sorry,” he tells him. Tells the one person who cared for him as is. “F’r being weak.”
Relationships: Hector (Castlevania)/Isaac (Castlevania)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	'Cause you gave me peace

**Author's Note:**

> Got a little in my feelings while listening to [Happiest Year](https://youtu.be/l1ACVF-zqWQ) by Jaymes Young.

_Yeah, we made each other bleed_

_And we tasted it_

_I'm here to admit_

_That you were my medicine_

_Oh, love, I couldn't quit_

_And I'm down on my knees again_

_\--_

Lenore is monologuing, Hector realizes, with something like mirth in the corner of himself that isn’t numb to the goings-on around him. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before: she’s going to usurp Carmilla and install herself as queen, she has the political connections to seize the whole of Europe, blah blah blah.

He imagines umber eyes glaring, melting her bones down to ash. That would solve all of his problems. Hector swallows blood and the sudden urge to laugh. It costs him nothing to admit that he might be a touch hysterical.

Good. Maybe his mind will finally leave him, and he can die in peace—body a soulless husk. How appropriate for a Forgemaster.

A husky chuckle, warm with genuine affection, scrapes at the recesses of his skull.

“No,” Hector mouths without sound. He doesn’t want to remember. Doesn’t deserve to.

“Hector, my Hector,” Isaac’s voice taunts. “Always so keen to throw yourself from the bridge.”

Hector stops breathing, the pain tearing fresh and hard across his ribs. “’m sorry,” he tells him. Tells the one person who cared for him as is. “F’r being weak.” His tongue protests, mouth swollen and aching from days of abuse. He’d bitten the bitch the last time she’d tried to kiss him.

Isaac huffs. “She offered you something.” He means the head of the snake, not the tentacle flapping about outside the bars of his cage. There’s no judgement in the words and honestly that hurts worse than his anger would.

“Your life,” Hector says, an earnest mumble.

The old man wanted to annihilate them all. Isaac welcomed the end, but Hector couldn’t let him go. He’d always been a needy child, clinging desperately to the happiness that fate sought to tear from him.

“Needed—” Hector coughs and curls tighter into himself, breaths short and wet sounding.

“What did you need, sweeting?”

“You…mm, want’d to t’ke caruv you.”

Isaac doesn’t need to straighten out the words. He’s not really there.

Hector twines his fingers in his hair, trying desperately to conjure the feeling of bigger hands. “L’ve you.”

_Isaac kisses with unexpected tenderness, fingers running across Hector’s scars like he’s mapping the valley around them and the stars in the night sky. The weight of his torso pressing him into the bed is addictive. The hand that slips between his legs teases honest moans from his lips. Hector kisses back, bites and fucks, soaks Isaac’s air and heat in like a sponge. Surge, retreat. They move together, bodies mingling into one trembling, singing nerve._

“And I you.”

The smell of his tears is nauseating. Exhaustion overwhelms Hector with a suddenness that’s drowning. “T’red,” he croaks.

“So sleep. I will keep watch.”

Permission granted by his hallucination, he drifts, awareness once again slipping away like curls of smoke on the wind.

The next time he wakes, it’s to the sound of a blood curdling scream.


End file.
